The Other Chosen One
by kingofthefayz77
Summary: Harry Potter was the Chosen One to kill Voldemort, but little did he know that Draco Malfoy was the Death Eater's Chosen One to kill Albus Dumbledore. My take on HBP from Draco's perspective.


**Hey guys! Firstly, thanks for reading this! It is my first HP fanfic, so I'm super excited. Anyway, this is what I think happened to Draco during HBP. There will be a lot of quoting from the book (which I will mention when it occurs) because I will try to make this as canon as possible, while also using clues from the book to fill in what I think happened when there was gaps. Please review if you like it! Also, I am not sure how often I will be able to update, but if there is enough positive feedback hopefully that will make some of my writing procrastination go away :)**

* * *

There was tension in the air; there was no doubting that. They both put on their faces of gratefulness easily though, like they had practiced it often. The mother gripped her son's arm tightly as their footsteps echoed hauntingly through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

As they exited the Ministry the duo was bombarded by camera flashes that occurred left and right. They both lifted their chins, refusing to let sorrow or regret enter their eyes. The Malfoys were well practiced at hiding their true emotions.

"Draco," Narcissa said out of the corner of her mouth, quietly enough that none of the reporters could hear. "Darling, you know what will be waiting for us when we get home, correct?"

"Yes," Draco answered and for the first time his head dipped down, fear flashing through his eyes. "Yes, I know."

Narcissa said nothing more, just held onto his arm more tightly as the cameras glittered in their eyes.

0000000

Draco quite still at his place at the table in Malfoy Manor. His back was rigid against the hard, unforgiving black wood of his chair. He should have sat at the head of the table, seeing as his father was being shipped off to a cell in Azkaban as they spoke, but someone else sat down in the chair. Draco didn't dare look to his right to see who it was. He knew.

"Ah, Draco. It is so nice to gain followers of the…younger generation." The high voice sent shivers down Draco's spine. He looked across the table, to where his mother was seated next to his Aunt Bella. He watched her wring her hands nervously, her face paler than usual.

His aunt was staring at him, an expectant look in her eyes. "Draco," she said coldly, "Shouldn't you address the Dark Lord when he speaks?"

Draco nodded but said nothing; no words would exit his throat.

"I've gathered you here today because I have a mission that I have chosen specifically for you," the Dark Lord spoke again.

Draco swallowed hard. "For me, my…my Lord?" he stuttered.

"Yes. You see I need someone at Hogwarts to do the job. I thought you would be perfect for it, seeing as your family needs to redeem itself after your ignorant father went and got himself a cell in Azkaban."

Draco watched his mother flinch as his father was mentioned, but she said nothing.

"Would this be something you would be interested in doing?"

Draco closed his eyes. Him? A sixteen year old carrying out a mission for the Dark Lord? Could he do it? What if he failed? The Dark Lord would kill his whole family.

"Draco?" Bella cooed. "Don't you want the job?"

"I-" Draco wanted to say yes; he knew he had to say yes, but he _couldn't. _Him, a Death Eater? Carrying out a direct mission from the Dark Lord? He wouldn't be able to do it.

In the lapse of conversation, the Dark Lord's snake slithered around Draco's chair menacingly. It was a great, terrible thing, with eyes that glittered with almost human like understanding. His mouth went dry as the snake began slithering up the chair leg. Would this be it? If he said no would the snake have him for dinner?

"Draco," his mother said softly as the snake reached the seat of the chair.

"I'll do it." Draco didn't even realize he had said it until after the words had left his mouth. He didn't take his eyes off the table to see what the Dark Lord's reaction had been, he was too busy trying to get his hands to stop shaking.

"Give me your arm," the Dark Lord commanded him, so Draco stuck out his arm, not processing what was happening. "Your other arm," the Dark Lord hissed, as if he was stupid.

Draco have him his left arm and the Dark Lord took it in his hand, holding his wand tip to his forearm. "Draco Malfoy," he said slowly, "I now make you one of my own."

And then there was pain. White pain; so hot it at first felt icy, seared across his skin. All he was aware of was the screaming, which was high pitched, like his mother's. He then realized it was his own.

When the Dark Lord released him, Draco slumped off his chair and dropped to the ground under the table, his vision blurry. Something black and unintelligible was swimming before his eyes on his forearm. Above him, he heard his mother ask in a hushed tone, "My Lord, if you don't mind me asking, what is the task Draco is to preform?"

Draco felt the Dark Lord push back his chair and as it scraped across the ground Draco felt fear course through him. The Dark Lord picked Draco up by the shoulder, holding him next to his body and supporting him. Draco could barely make out the hazy figures of his mother and aunt.

"This boy," the Dark Lord began, "will be our 'Chosen One'."

"What do you mean, my Lord?" his aunt asked as Draco began to go limp, his vision fading.

"He will be the one to defeat one of the greatest wizards of all time. Draco will kill Albus Dumbledore."


End file.
